


Shower

by newtandthediamonds



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, nsfw if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtandthediamonds/pseuds/newtandthediamonds
Summary: Sharing showers with your s/o is good for the environment and the soul.





	Shower

The steam from the shower has fogged up the bathroom mirror by the time she has walked into the bathroom in a sleepy daze. This happens quite often for them. Bill will wake up earlier than her and choose to let her sleep, only for her to wake up and find him here.

Y/N peels off her layers of clothing with a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. They've been together for a long time now. Just about seven years, since they were merely thirteen years old and first bonded over art class in middle school. It's safe to say that they're each others' soulmates. No matter how cliche the word, they both accept this as their truth. There's no one who understands her better than he does and in return there's no one who cares and loves him more than her. She met Bill at one of the worst times of his life. It was the September following the summer he'd spent battling It with his friends, the year he'd lost Beverly, and the year Georgie died. The first time she saw him was in art class, the only place he ever seemed somewhat happy in, where he was painting something she'd later come to realize was his little brother's yellow raincoat floating in a sea of blood. The second time she'd seen him, he was slumped against the wall outside of the school with a hand on his chest as he heaved for air and sobbed loudly. That was the day that Bill's life as he knew it, was forever saved.

He doesn't turn when the shower curtain sweeps open just enough for her to step in behind him. Bill's head is dipped under the flowing stream of water, steam curling up to the ceiling when it meets his flushed skin. Her eyes fall over him for a second and she admires her boyfriend thoroughly, admires his soft smile of satiation upon hearing her step into the shower.

"When will you stop being such a gentleman and just wake me up to join you?" Y/N teases, "You know I always wake up without you next to me anyway."

The nineteen-year-old steps out from the shower-head and leans back against the cold tiled wall, a signal that it's her turn.

"S-So me being a good boyfriend and letting you sleep in is bad? N-Noted."

Water splashes up at him as she gives him a fake pout, swatting a hand out from where she wets her hair to jokingly smack his arm. Bill rolls his eyes and reaches for the shampoo bottle beside him. Ever since leaving for college together, their relationship that many had expected to end by the time High School was finished, has solidified into a bond so deep that he's sure that nothing-no one-could sever it. Maybe it was gaining the independence of being together on their own, despite the fact that they share the apartment with Richie and Stan due to not being able to cover rent by themselves, that paved the way for the High School sweethearts to become more than just that. Maybe it was leaving behind Derry, leaving everything that happened to them there behind. Or maybe it's just them, and how they've grown since moving away as a couple.

She leans back against his chest, the warmth of his bare skin ever so inviting, as he lathers the shampoo into her hair.

After two years of dating, he confessed why he was depressed when they'd first met. It took hours of talking before she even understood half of what he was saying since before then she'd never been told of a Georgie Denbrough who'd ran off into a storm and never come back. Before then she hadn't even heard of the missing children Derry had in all of the time she lived there after moving. So he had to start at the beginning and tell her of the worst day of his life, and how it started with his bright-eyed little brother begging him to make a paper boat. And from seeing the tears in his eyes, hearing the genuine pain in his voice while he'd relayed all of the horrors of his youth onto her, she believed him. For whatever reason, maybe it being her unconditional love for him or simply the overwhelming about of compassion within her, she believed him.

Bill thinks to himself and keeps massaging her scalp with his fingertips. The languid circles make her move into the touch, her eyes gently fluttering shut in response. There are many days like this where they're so burnt out from staying up all night studying together or passed out before either of them could even think about a shower from exhaustion, where they take the time to make this their place of sanctity. With each other, any stress and worries for tomorrow melt away into a mutual state of bliss. Here, their love can win over any of their troubles.

"Mmm," She hums contentedly, "I swear your fingers are magic," But then corrects before he even thinks about teasing her for the innuendo, "Shut up, Denbrough."

He laughs, "I didn't even s-say it!"

"You were thinking it."

And the sound of her laughter alone makes his heart swell with love, a love for her and all of her quirks. One of his favorites, that sometimes proves to be frustrating, is her ability to somehow read his mind and know exactly what he's thinking. She sees right through him, knows him well enough that he can give her one look and she'll just know what he's saying with his eyes. He turns so that she's in front of him now, her head directly under the attention of the faucet and rinses her off. While her eyes are closed and not able to catch him ogling, he silently memorizes her face over and over, as if at any minute would be his last to see it. Bill brushes his thumb over her bottom lip, soapy water dribbling over his hand. He keeps it there for a moment and just watches her brows furrow inward slightly, only slightly, at his tease of a touch to her lips.

"Okay," She interrupts, "Your turn."

He slides his remaining hand from her hair, taking a bit longer than necessary lingering on her neck, then crouches down enough for her to comfortably reach him.

The boys started to poke fun at him for using his girlfriend's fruity shampoo all the time. They'd started showering together all the time soon into their first year of college. They realized quickly that because of their class schedules and constant assignments, they might as well use every chance they get to spend time together. Not to mention, it's a stealthy place to have sex when you have two roommates who hate knocking. It was only when he was lying on the couch, his head rested on Richie's shoulder that any of them noticed the sudden change in his shampoo. But he held his ground firmly and told them, only stuttering once, that he doesn't mind the smell of his citrus scented hair.

She leans up, still working the soap into his hair, and kisses him amid the steam of the shower that billows around them. The kiss is soft but deep and their lips meld to one another's effortlessly from years of practicing in their bedrooms back in Derry. Their actions are never fumbling or unsure anymore. He could see her through any darkness, hear her over any noise. There isn't a thing about her he hasn't seen and accepted.

Honesty, as well as total disclosure, has been one of their greatest unspoken rules over the course of their relationship. Ever since he'd admitted all that he went through with his little brother and his friends, she held him and cried with him until the sun rose up over where they were camped out beside the fire at the Quarry. Ever since that moment, when he'd trusted her with the darkest piece of him, they'd agreed to never keep anything from each other again. Thus, she knows all about the darkness that looms over him on the worst of days and he worries over the demons of her own that chase her no matter where she goes.

They spend a lot of their time this morning talking as they take their time washing the other down with a bar of soap, paying mind to every inch of skin in need of attention. She nearly has to beg him to stop taking an unnecessarily long amount of time on her breasts, but he notices the fussing first and reluctantly returns back to business as usual.   
But she isn't particularly innocent either. While she washed him down, she paid extra care to certain areas as payback for his near torturous attack to her chest and he wasn't shy of telling her exactly he'd do to her if she kept it up. To which she responded by sticking out her tongue.

The room is still steaming and warm from the heat of the water, a preference of his she took a long time to adjust to since he likes to shower in hellfire water, by the time they step out. Bill gives her first grabs on the towel, ever the sweet boyfriend, and opts for shaking his hair our wildly to dry it off. Droplets of water fly outward in every direction to slide down the walls, mirror, and shower curtain.

Y/N scrunches her nose and stifles a giggle, "You know, you kind of look like a dog drying off."

His shoulders lift in a simple shrug, the motion perfectly smooth and careless. Their first time showering together had been awkward to say the least. Because it had been the first time their were naked together for a reason other than sex and they didn't know what to do with themselves, didn't know how to talk or interact when they were just standing their bare ass naked as they huddled for warmth under the water. It's a day they can look back and laugh on now but boy, it was something she couldn't help but cringe at the whole way through. But it got easier, as most things tend to do, and they, oddly enough, became more comfortable naked around each other than clothed.

"That's obviously w-what I was going for, jeez, Y/N/N," He throws his hands out dramatically and feigns offense, "I wish you'd listen!"

She tosses the towel at him through a fit of laughter.


End file.
